The War of the Gods
by raz247
Summary: Zamorak's and Saradomin's followers have the final battle.


The War of the Gods

The army of soldiers marched through the city of Burthorpe. The army of the God, Saradomin, were wearing steel armor. Their helmets, plate legs, and body armor was a bright gray. Their weapons included war hammers, battle axes, long swords, two-handed swords, and bow and arrows. Behind them were the protectors of the village of Burthorpe. These soldiers wore their traditional black armor. Their weapons of choice were the steel claws, which resembled a tiger's. In the middle of the army was a young soldier named John. In his right hand, he was holding an average steel sword. In his left, he was holding a shield in the shape of a kite. As he marched, he thought about his predicament. He couldn't believe that the same message came to every town, city, and village! It still ran through his head: " All residents 15 years of age and over who have had weaponry combat training are to report to Falador." As they marched, John saw the Toad and Chicken, the local bar. He had two gold coins in his pocket and wanted to buy a glass of ale to calm his nerves. A person wearing a hooded cloak ran to catch up to John. John immediately knew it was his friend, Bill.

" Hi, Bill." John whispered. Soldiers weren't allowed to talk while marching, and John didn't want to get in trouble.

" Hey, John. Worried about where we're going?" questioned Bill.

" Of course I am! We're headed to Death Plateau!" John responded, with fear on his voice.

" I know what you're worried about, John. Don't worry. The trolls were forced out of Death Plateau years ago. They won't be there."

" I know. It's just that . . . the trolls are so close! You never know when they could come back! And you know how persuasive Zamorak is! Don't you remember how he turned the White Knights into destroying Varrock! I still can't figure out how he . . ."

" All right! I get it! I brought you a little something."

Bill pulled out a small vial from his pocket. The liquid inside was light blue and fizzed slightly.

" It's a strength potion. I thought you could use it."

" Thanks, Bill. But, what about you?"

" Don't worry. I made a lot."

John uncorked the vial. From what John heard, it smelled like rotten meat and tasted like dirty socks. Either way, it'll prove helpful. He corked the bottle as they walked up the path to Death Plateau.

The scene was quiet at the top of Death Plateau. John checked the sharpness of his sword and practiced his attacks. Bill was sent to the back with the rest of the archers. John heard the footsteps of the other army and tightened his grip. The army of Zamorak appeared from the north-west. The soldiers up front wore red over their armor. As they stopped, the Saradomin captain yelled at the top of his lungs, "Attaaaaaack!"

Blood fell on the dirt that day. Both sides attacked with great strength. The soldiers swung their weapons with might. The archers launched their arrows with speed. Thanks to his training (and a strength potion), John was able to take down foes without getting hurt. After killing his tenth enemy, John felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. He saw a large arrow dug into his shoulder. He removed it, felt another sharp pain, threw it to the ground, and continued to fight.

After using a crates worth of arrows, Bill heard loud stomping. _Oh, no,_ thought Bill. _John was right._ As Bill stared, he saw the trolls enter the battle. The trolls marched up and faced the soldiers of Saradomin. Trolls are dim-looking creatures who aren't bright. Their skin is a light-tan, their eyes are dots and they're practically bald. Most trolls threw large boulders at the army. The rocks knocked and killed many soldiers. The other trolls marched down and swatted the army of Saradomin with their paws. Arrows stabbed the trolls on the front side. The archers had a hard time focusing on Zamorak soldiers and trolls. The battle on the ground wasn't a walk in the park, either. After hours of massacre, the battle was over and Saradomin won.

John laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The nurse had left a few minutes ago to tend to the other patients. Even though he had two arrow wounds, five sword cuts, and a burn from a magic spell, John felt that he was lucky. Hundreds had died from the battle and he was one of the few hundred who lived. Two days later, he was back on his feet. He knew his family will be proud when he tells them.


End file.
